


Rose and the TARDIS

by hellostarlight20



Series: The Adventures of Bad Wolf and the TARDIS...and their Doctor [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is still a GITF fixit, with Rose and the TARDIS, a Mickey who stays out of Rose/Doctor drama, a period appropriate Reinette with no bashing, and the Doctor. Of course. It wanted to be longer (probably part of my emotional problem) but I refused to let it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose and the TARDIS

**Author's Note:**

> zoebelle9 requested a GITF fixit. Since I’ve never written one, I thought I’d write a funny, snarky (short!) Rose and the TARDIS story wherein they save the Doctor then have a private laugh and ignore him when he demands to know how they did it.
> 
> This is not that story. I can’t write sustained funny--sarcasm? Oh yes. Comedy? Nope!
> 
> See if you can catch the thing I slipped in with Reinette. It was done on purpose. (Answer at bottom!)
> 
> Rated T+ for one scene toward the end. This is about 4K words. A huge shout-out to KelKat9 for the beta when I knew I missed some emotion but couldn’t find what or where.

“We can’t fly the TARDIS without him,” Mickey lamented. “How’s he going to get back?

Rose didn’t know.

Emergency Program One probably still worked, unless this new Doctor disabled it. (God, Rose hoped so. It replayed in her nightmares, that Doctor’s voice overlaid with insubstantial singing and the harsh reality of _exterminate_.)

No, that was petty—the Doctor wouldn’t have disabled anything that might save her. Them. Except, of course, she couldn’t access it. There was probably still some sort of failsafe for _Doctor Not Here_ or _Doctor In Danger_ or _Doctor Needs Rescuing_. 

But Rose didn’t know. She didn’t…

They were stuck here. Fifty-first century, middle of space, Dagmar Cluster who knew where the hell that was. They were as trapped here as the Doctor was in seventeen-whatever France. With Madame Pretty and Perfect.

Screw that.

She straightened her shoulders. Lifted her chin. She was the Bad Wolf. She was Rose Tyler. She was _Dame_ Rose Tyler who fought werewolves and Daleks and living plastic. The hell she was going to sit around waiting.

Rose walked right up to the Time Rotor and laid her hands on the green-blue glow. Channeling every bit of mental telepathy or human tenacity or sheer stubbornness she possessed, Rose repeated the same mantra over and over.

It wasn’t _Save the Doctor_ , as she once had (the singing engulfed her and surrounded her and she let it lift her like a breeze. A wind. Like a _storm_. Yes a storm, a raging storm that caressed her bare body and held her safe in gentle hands.)

Today, despite the fact Rose felt almost the same need to protect him and save him, what she repeated to the TARDIS was far, far simpler. Because after all, saving the Doctor was a full time job with lousy benefits.

No. None of that. Rose mentally berated herself even as she continued to focus on the TARDIS and the Time Rotor and the glorious humming dancing along her skin and buoying her soul.

 _“We know all the benefits of traveling with the Doctor, don’t we?”_ she asked the TARDIS.

Rose opened her eyes and looked at the golden swirl that almost, nearly, manifested into humanoid form. It didn’t, however, and eddied and waved as if its own breeze, the golden energy wound around her like a comfort.

 _“We see the universe,”_ the Heart of the TARDIS agreed.

 _“He’s a magnificent being,”_ Rose said, careful not to use man though she had no real idea why her mind shied away from that word. _“And he belongs to the universe.”_

 _“He is Time’s Champion,”_ the Heart of the TARDIS whispered.

The words danced along her skin and Rose smiled. She knew what she had to do. Save Mickey. Make sure the Doctor saved Madame de Pompadour and the Time Lines. No advanced technology in France, no alternate history, no changing one thing.

Save the Doctor.

Rose closed her eyes again and smiled. Embraced the Heart of the TARDIS and with every fiber of her being thought about what they needed to do. Today Rose’s plea was as from the heart as her plea ( _I want you safe, My Doctor_ ) a lifetime ago.

_We have to stick together._

Rose repeated it, let the words, the sheer soul-deep feeling of rightness engulf her. The TARDIS hummed in her mind and her soul, but Rose hadn’t the strength to open her eyes again. There, right there on the fringes of her consciousness, the edges of her vision, the faintest scent, brush, tang over her, Rose felt it. Felt _Her_.

More than an amorphous cloud of energy, Rose knew the TARDIS stood beside her, behind her, around her and was as real as any physical being Rose ever met.

“Rose?” Mickey whispered (shouted). “What are you doing?”

Rose swatted him like a fly, or thought she did. But she also knew she kept her hands very firmly on the Time Rotor. Mickey was ephemeral, human. He couldn’t understand the sheer majesty of what this glorious breeze-wind-storm felt like. Of Time flowing around her and through her and a part of her.

_Of them._

They moved, a beautifully smooth ballet, soaring through space and time and existence. The Doctor said they were already part of events and couldn’t use the TARDIS to jump to seventeen-whatever France to rescue the court from murderous clockwork droids.

He said nothing about _after_ saving the world.

With a gentle sigh, Rose felt her feet touch the ground. The TARDIS kissed her cheek, power and love and understanding in that single touch. As real as when Rose took the Doctor’s hand or trailed her fingers along the console.

Rose opened her eyes.

“Rose!” Mickey looked ashen and frantic. “What the hell was that? Are you all right? You—you—” he waved a frantic hand then embraced her hard. Pulling back he squinted at her. “You faded there for a minute.”

“Really?” Rose blinked at her friend.

She looked from Mickey to the Time Rotor as if the TARDIS held the answers Mickey seemed to need. She felt fine, no aches, no headache, no grogginess (like last time...)

“I feel fantastic!” Better than, actually, but when Rose thought of how, words escaped her.

She stepped from his grip and did a quick mental check. She spread her arms out and spun in a circle as if she still flew along the golden wind. “Yup!” She sang out. “Perfectly solid. No fading here.”

Grinning at Mickey, who still looked terrified and worried, she shook her head. Rose had no words for him, just that gorgeous feeling of _life_. She turned and ran down the ramp and opened the door. It didn’t surprise her one bit to see the Doctor standing there, mouth agape, eyes wide.

Beside him, Reinette looked on in stunned silence. Rose’s grin widened.

“Hello!” she waggled her fingers in a little wave.

“Rose!” The Doctor peered around her as if expected someone else at the door.

“Yup!” she said and looked again at Reinette.

How had she ever been jealous of the other woman? Her own damn insecurities, nothing more. Reinette was beautiful and accomplished and had the French Empire at her feet—along with its king.

Rose just commanded all of time and space with her singular human body.

Shrugging it off, she looked closer at Reinette. “Are you all right?” she asked softly. “No clockwork cutting or anything? They didn’t harm you?”

“Ah…” Reinette shook her head. She looked bewildered for a moment then schooled her features into polite curiosity. “No,” she said softly. “Thank you, Madame. I am quite well.” She turned to the Doctor. “This is your ship?”

“Yes,” he squeaked, still staring at Rose in awe. “And this is my Rose. I mean Rose. This is Rose.”

Mickey exited the door behind her, not quite so shaky as he had been a moment ago. “Hello. I’m Mickey. I’d wait for himself to introduce us, but when they’re together, the two of them forget everyone else is around.”

“Pleased to meet you, monsieur,” Reinette said with a curtsey. “Thank you for your efforts in saving my life and those at my court.”

“Yes, yes,” the Doctor said and tore his gaze from Rose’s.

He glanced at Reinette then at Mickey. The Doctor’s gaze narrowed when he looked at the TARDIS and he sniffed.

“Well then. Yes. Best be off.” He turned to Reinette and grinned. “Thank you, Reinette. Have um…yes. Yes.”

He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, nodded twice, and turned sharply on his shoes. The rubber soles squeaked on the marble floor but he seemed not to notice. Rose resisted snickering.

“Reinette.” Rose nodded. “Take care.”

“And you, Madame Rose.” Reinette offered her a deep curtsey.

Rose tried, awkwardly, to replicate it. All these nobles she met, by now she should’ve mastered the curtsey. She’d work on it next time they floated in the Vortex while the Doctor tinkered. After all, who knew who she’d meet next? Maybe Queen Elizabeth I…she’d have to ask the Doctor about trying to hit the right century for that.

Rose ushered Mickey, still looking a tad ill, into the TARDIS and closed the door behind her. Then she frowned.

“We should’ve offered her trip,” she called to the Doctor who stood at the console, arms and feet crossed, frowning at the grating as if it dearly wronged him.

“Taken her to see the Omicron Velorum Cluster or something,” she added.

“Hmm?” the Doctor looked up and moved his shoulders in a sort of wave-shrug thing. “Yes, well, maybe next time.”

He turned and hit switches, pulled levers. Rose cast a sidelong look to Mickey who sighed and nodded.

“I’ll be somewhere else,” he agreed. “Send a smoke signal when it’s clear to come out again.”

Rose kissed his cheek and waited until his footsteps disappeared down the hall. She turned expectantly to the Doctor, but he seemed quite content ignoring her. Rose sighed and crossed to the seat.

Was she supposed to apologize for rescuing him? Seemed silly, but she couldn’t tell with him in this mood. Or was she supposed to be sorry for asking the TARDIS for help? Again, seemed odd, but the Doctor was certainly acting strange and Rose had no idea how to shake him out of it.

So she sat and waited, perfectly patient and still feeling the sparks of energy race along her skin. Just beneath the surface. Through her veins, across every nerve ending. It wound through her and over her and touched every single part of her.

Rose sighed and stretched her arms high overhead.

She wanted to run a marathon and climb a mountain and fly across the plains. Swim with the deepest sea creatures and surf along a comet’s tail. Make love for hours.

Limbs loose, a bouncy sort of strength pumping through her, Rose smiled wide and opened her eyes. The Doctor stood directly in front of her. He didn’t look _at_ her, but around her. Fascinated and white-faced scared.

She jerked back, startled. “Wha—”

“What did you just do?” he demanded.

Eyes narrowed he scrutinized her carefully. His hands flashed out in a blink and closed over her biceps. Rose yelped, startled. He shook her, just once.

“Where’s Rose?” His voice lowered, snarling and alien and a promise of retribution if he didn’t like her answer.

“What?” She shook her head and jerked back. He held her tight but kept distance between their bodies. “Doctor, what are you talking about?”

“We were running across the flatlands of Gallifrey,” he said, anger and worry harsh in his words. “Then we climbed the frozen waterfalls of Women Wept and suddenly we flew over the grassy plains of Zejczaopolis.”

Rose blinked and tried to think of words, but all she saw-felt-knew was exactly what he described. Hand in hand, laughing and grinning just the two of them. Each thought she had—of the freedom of being outdoors with him, racing across lands she’d never seen—painted a vivid picture around them.

Literally.

Her thoughts literally painted the image she saw in her head. Even now her thoughts created a new world. Instead of sitting on the jumpseat in the blue-green glow of the TARDIS, they floated in the deep clear sea, hand-in-hand.

The water caressed her bare body— _she was naked?!_ Rose looked at the Doctor, not the one looking furiously terrified at her but at the one beside her in the oceans. He, too, was naked. She sucked in a quick breath on a high-pitched yip.

The warm currents buoyed them, twirling them in circles and sweeping them along fast, like a roller coaster. The underwater people joined them and they all laughed. With, apparently, no care for the fact Rose was pretty damn certain she couldn’t breathe underwater.

“We’re swimming with the mariners of that water world we went to,” she whispered. 

“The Harquins.” His voice was cold, eyes narrowed.

They hadn’t gone into the water when they visited the planet a few relative weeks ago. Weren’t allowed to since neither Rose nor the Doctor wanted to strip and swim naked. Clothing was strictly forbidden in their waters.

“What did you do?” the Doctor demanded. But his voice sounded quieter.

Rose blinked and the scene around them changed. Colors muted, water changed to TARDIS air (a faint wind, a caressing storm).

They made love on a wide bed, somewhere in the TARDIS. Pale glowing roundels dotted the walls and Her ever-present hum sang as background music to their ecstasy. The Doctor ground out her name, the muscles of his back straining as he moved. Her fingers dug into his sides, legs wrapped tightly around his hips.

She shattered, or Dream Rose did, sobbing incoherently as she came, _hard_. But the Doctor (Dream Doctor) continued to move and Rose knew without actually being Dream Rose, that her orgasm (not the first of the night, either) built again. And again.

Felt that pleasure in her body, an echo of the scene all around them.

“Where’s Rose?” he snarled again.

Rose tore her gaze from the scene painted so vividly around them. She had never, not once, seen his anger directed at her. The pulsing trip of fury, the swirl of time and galaxies and knowledge in his gaze.

The storm.

The Doctor was the storm that held her, caressed her, protected her with infinite gentleness. The vehemence that surrounded her as she asked the TARDIS for help was not the Heart of the TARDIS herself, but _the Doctor_.

“Doctor,” she said, but her voice sounded soft and soothing, a gentle caress. She thought she should be worried, as terrified as him. But all she felt was the steadying comfort of calming him. “I’m right here.”

He jerked back. “How did you fly the TARDIS?”

“What?” she asked and blinked up at him. “I didn’t. We, ah…”

She frantically tried to think of a good explanation of what actually happened. Nothing came to mind. It taunted her, just out of reach. Rose bit her lip and tried to think of words to explain what happened. Nothing sounded right, nothing fit.

Like a hummingbird flitting around her mind, darting to and fro, any words to describe what she and the TARDIS did to save him remained elusive.

“I’m being very calm,” he said in that cold, alien voice that was as menacing as it was promising. Vengeance personified. “Very calm. I’ll ask one more time. Trust me when I say you won’t like it if I don’t like your answer. Where. Is. _Rose?_ ”

“Doctor,” she said and though part of her wanted to shout—she stood before him, right here!—another part soothed. That same elusiveness that kept her explanation from forming also kept her from shouting. Rose had no idea why.

She reached out and clasped his hand. “I’m right here. Nothing’s taken me over, nothing’s invaded my head.”

His fingers remained stiff in hers and his face a mask of Time Lord fury. So alien. So very beautiful. Rose wanted to run her fingers over his cheek, his expressive lips, but held tight to his hand. She refused to let go.

“I asked the TARDIS to…” she shook her head. “No, that’s not right. But I did ask her,” Rose frowned and tried again. “I don’t know what happened.” She looked at the Time Rotor.

“I put my hands on the Time Rotor and thought about staying together. I can’t fly Her, I can’t look in the Heart again…” her voice wrapped around them, a whisper, a caress.

What she’d done, the vivid colors and swirling power faded, grayed out from her memory as surely as it was never there.

“I put my hands on Her rotor and told Her we had to stay together,” she said slowly, each word pulled from deep within her soul. “Suddenly, we landed and when I opened the door, there you were.”

White lipped, freckles stark against his pale face, dimples furiously bracketing his mouth, the Doctor looked not at her but around her. Rose frowned and tried to see what he did.

Oh. When had the TARDIS developed a holographic projection system? She must’ve always had it, since Rose distinctly remembered the Doctor’s holographic projection on Emergency Program One. Still…bit weird to see it so clearly.

Better than a projection, it looked as if they stepped into her memory of events. As vibrantly as she saw them swimming or making love.

Her hands touched the Time Rotor and felt the tender brush of the TARDIS. Faintly she-they heard Mickey demanding to know what happened, shouting worried words of fear. He didn’t touch her and Rose wondered why. From the peripheral of her vision, Rose-TARDIS saw Mickey; he looked as if he wanted to throw her as far from the Time Rotor as possible, but he didn’t move.

As if he were frozen in place.

And then the vision or memory or whatever it was…popped. As if someone took a pin to the bubble, it vanished. Once more they stood in the blue-green glow of the TARDIS, the coral struts a majestic rise above them, the grating hard below them.

She squeaked in alarm. “What was that? What just happened?” She met his gaze, terrified. No longer calm and soothing. “Doctor?”

For another long moment he stared at her. Then his hand flexed around hers and he released a long sigh.

“Rose.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her as if he never planned to let her go.

Which was all well and good, but Rose had absolutely no idea what the hell just happened and she didn’t like it one bit.

Two hours ago she couldn’t do that…that communication thing with the TARDIS. Sure, Rose had always been able to talk to the ship, and occasionally She flashed a light to guide Rose or moved a room closer. And, yes, the TARDIS often hid the Jammy Dodgers from the Doctor so Rose had the chance to eat at least one.

_(I want you safe, my Doctor…)_

But fly the TARDIS by touch? Or thought? Or some odd combination of both?

Unless it wasn’t her, at all, but the TARDIS?

“I think it was you,” the Doctor said and Rose wondered if she spoke aloud. “You went to rescue me, you asked Her for help, and like always, She didn’t listen to Her own laws of time, oh no.”

He released a long, heartfelt breathe of relief but didn’t release _her_. In fact, he held her tighter for another heartbeat. “Just went ahead and did what you asked.” He sagged against her. “Rose.”

Kissing her temple, he smoothed her hair from her flushed cheeks. His long fingers framed her face and his deep brown eyes bore into hers as if he read ever memory-sensation-wish in her soul. And he calmed her, his sudden understanding and acceptance eased her as nothing else.

“You terrify me,” he breathed against her skin. “You incredible creature you, you absolutely terrify me. Do you even know the meaning of _impossible_?” He didn’t wait for an answer and Rose didn’t bother with one. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him. “But the TARDIS, She’s all right, yeah? No damage?”

“No damage,” he sighed. 

“And me…I’m okay, too?” Her voice sounded small and tentative and suddenly Rose wondered if she was going to burst into flames as he had when he kissed her and took the Vortex from her the first time.

Oh. Oh, that’s what happened.

She hadn’t really asked, trying as she was to come to terms with the new new Doctor, and he certainly hadn’t offered any sort of explanation. They avoided any talk of Daleks and Satellite Five (and Jack…a memory tickled her mind, but Rose couldn’t latch onto it…and it disappeared with her next breath) and the Doctor’s regeneration.

Rose knew she was Bad Wolf. And she knew she saved him and destroyed the Daleks. What she hadn’t remembered was that she killed her Doctor. She killed him. Rose absorbed the Heart of the TARDIS and in order to save her, the Doctor…oh. Save her.

The Doctor _kissed her_ to absorb the energy running through her to save her life. At the cost of his own. (And why hadn’t she remembered he kissed her?)

There was a memory there, too…dancing around her head like the storm of earlier. A Northern-accented laugh and work-roughened hands...

Rose blinked up at the Doctor and that memory disappeared, too. The Doctor looked down at her with such softness, her heart melted. Words clogged her throat, thick and heavy, but she couldn’t push them out.

“I think you’re fine, too,” he promised in that voice that said he’d do everything possible to ensure that no matter what. “I’ll run tests on both of you, but if there were any ill effects from the Vortex, we’d have seen them by now.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice to say anything. _Good_ , she mouthed, but no words sounded in the air. Instead, Rose held him tighter.

“And the Time Lines are all intact,” he promised.

He didn’t whirl away from her, didn’t release her. Held her closer. Tucked her head beneath his chin and breathed softly against her temple. Rose wanted to reach out and caress his face, but her fingers only managed to tighten their grip on the back of his pinstriped jacket.

Slowly, the double beating of his hearts soothed her and she felt her muscles relax. Slowly, her own heart stopped its frantic beat. The vividness of what happened faded until all Rose remembered was that she’d done what she set out to do and the TARDIS helped her. She knew how it felt, because she remembered it but not the actual sensations.

Shame. She always wanted to fly.

One thing she did remember with all the luminosity-radiance-clarity of being there was talking to the TARDIS. Their shared bond; their shared love for the Doctor. Their shared need to keep him safe from himself.

If she asked, Rose wondered if the TARDIS would play back what happened like it had for the Doctor.

Right now, wrapped securely in his arms, Rose thought she could stay just like this for the next year. And then his words sank in.

“Time Lines?” she repeated and shook her head. “Yes. Good. I’m glad to hear it. Don’t fancy being conquered by the French king and his clockwork army and all.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but the fear in his eyes didn’t lessen.

“What am I going to do with you, Rose Tyler?” he whispered.

“Buy me chips?” she offered with a nonchalant shrug and a wide grin. “I’m starving.”

The Doctor laughed. “Chips it is.” He finally released her but didn’t move away. “After I run a couple tests.”

Rose privately agreed, but she really was hungry. Still, better to be safe than burning, right?

“Don’t even think that,” the Doctor said sharply. “Ever. I will _never_ let you burn.”

Had she said that aloud, too? Damn. She used to be so much better about actually voicing, or not voicing, her impulses.

“Come on, let’s run your tests.” The Doctor looked down at her, eyes focused and swirling with a timelessness she never grew tired of looking at. Blue-eyed or brown.

Rose tightened her fingers around his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “And then chips?”

He stopped and stared down at her. Her heart did a slow flip in her chest and Rose forgot how to breathe. The entire console room narrowed until it was only the two of them. His gaze drew her in and she leaned closer.

“And then, Rose Tyler, anything you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Reinette very specifically calls Rose madame. I do this on purpose because at the time, she would’ve definitely been mademoiselle unless introduced as Madame Rose. Today, there’s a debate (I don’t know what’s been decided) about mademoiselle vs. madame and whether anyone should use mademoiselle anymore.
> 
> Does Reinette believe Rose married to the Doctor...? *innocently shrugs*


End file.
